“No,” I shake my head. “We did.”
Allura walks in, coffee mug in one hand, phone in the other. Her eyeliner’s smudged, hair wild, but her presence fills the room like command always does. “Heard the books are finally clean.”
“Clean and feeding the shelters,” I confirm. “Every penny now runs through the foundation. The women, the kids, we fund it all.” Once, I funneled numbers to hide our sins. Now I use them to buy redemption.
Allura smiles, slow and dangerous. “Then it’s time you took the lead on it. West Coast expansion’s yours. You built it, you run it.”
The words hit harder than any medal. “You sure?”
“Positive,” she says. “You’ve got the brains, the loyalty, and the fire. The rest of us? We’ll keep the wolves off your back.”
Carter steps in from the hall, overhearing. Allura nods toward him. “And Carter, I want you as the head of security. I want our walls sealed and our routes clean. We’ve made too many enemies to get lazy now.”
He smirks. “On it, Prez.”
Allura raises her mug in salute. “To the fallen and the future.”
We gather around the table. Me, Carter, Divine, French, Calypso, Sloane, Raven, Iris, Allura, all of usscarred, standing, alive. The whiskey bottle makes its rounds, poured into mismatched glasses.
“For Alex,” I say.
“For every woman we saved,” French adds.
“For the ones still out there,” Sloane hisses.
Allura lifts her glass higher. “And for the ones they’ll never take again.”
We drink. The burn slides down my throat, sharp and clean. The room hums with laughter, quiet stories, and the soft clink of glass against glass. It feels like peace stitched together from chaos.
After the toast, I find myself back at the ledgers, staring at the balanced columns glowing across the screen. The numbers line up perfectly, clean and even. Order where there was once ruin.
For the first time in years, I feel lighter. Not empty, just… right. Still fierce. Still fighting. But finally free.
Carter’s hand finds the back of my neck, thumb tracing slow circles. “You did it, Rebel. You gave the blood meaning.”
I turn, kiss him once, brief and sure. “We did. And we’re not done.”
He grins. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”
The sun breaks fully through the windows then, spilling gold over chrome, cuts, and faces that survived the fire.
I touch Alex’s tags where they rest against my skin, whisper under my breath, “Rest easy, brother. Your wild sister finally found her way home.”
Carter laces his fingers throughmine as we walk toward the door. The storm’s over for now. The hum of the bikes outside, the gold through the windows, it all sounds like a promise.
Peace never lasts long in our world. It just gives us time to sharpen the next blade. And as sunlight cuts through the dust, one thought burns bright in my chest.
Whatever’s coming next, the Harlots will be ready.
EPILOGUE
CARTER
Weeks pass, and the city settles into something that almost feels like peace. The kind that hums under the skin instead of pounding through it.
I traded my gun-for-hire life for something steadier. Now I run security for all the Royal Harlots’ operations of front offices, warehouses, the new shelters, and even their transport lines. The kind of work that keeps the walls strong and the ghosts quiet.
Rebel, though, she’s built for more than walls. She’s running legit investments now, turning what used to be cover accounts into clean businesses. Logistics, housing, and charity ventures. She’s still got fire in her veins, but it burns clean these days.
